


OK computer

by izzyharel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Civil War (Marvel), F/M, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Battle of Sokovia, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), through time, wandavision - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29803773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzyharel/pseuds/izzyharel
Summary: After each event of her life, Wanda fell a little more in love with Vision. But that love didn't bloom overnight. It was slow and unexpected, it was beautiful and terrible in equal regards. And so, she documented all the small moments that lead to the big ones; she thought back on every reason as to why she loved him.
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff & Avengers Team, Wanda Maximoff & Vision, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	1. fitter happier.

The first thing Wanda Maximoff noticed when she finally had time to explore after Ultron’s defeat was that the world was bright. It was perverse for the world to be so bright and sunny when Pietro was gone. The world should have been desolate and grey. It should have been littered with bullets and crimson, just as her brother had been. Why did this country celebrate and revel when her brother was gone? She knew logically that the world was safe. The Avengers had seen to that. Tony Stark had been a hero, as had those around him. 

She had been a hero too, Wanda was told. Clint Barton, Hawkeye as he introduced himself, had clasped her shoulder and explained that Pietro was a hero and that his sacrifice had not been in vain. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a wary distrust in her that he had only gotten over in order to comfort her. Wanda didn’t have to read his mind to know that the man was apprehensive. But he was kind enough to apologise for Pietro’s death and to try and soothe her, however asinine his attempts at comfort might have seemed.

Not that it was kindness that guided Clint Barton. It seemed more like guilt. Like the arrows he nocked and shot, his actions were perfunctory and nearly mechanical. It made her tired to know that he had seen so much death that dealing with it was just another thing to do before leaving. When Clint finally wandered away, more came with hands askew and words bubbling on their lips, spilling over like blood from Pietro’s body as they spoke and spoke and spoke. Nobody ever stopped speaking, never stopped their constant stream of words.

God, she was tired. 

They all seemed to think their condolences were expected. A hand on the shoulder, a muttered word or two about prayers, and so forth. Wanda was used to paltry words of comfort. She had been an orphan longer than she had been an Avenger. But, she was also used to Pietro. He had been her guiding light and presence throughout it all. They had survived the experiments together and had clawed their way out of the rubble of their apartment together, hands linked together. Vengeance had driven the two Maximoff twins, but companionship was what kept their minds stable through Strucker’s experiments and through the grief of losing so much so young.

So, so, tired.

The only person who did not offer paltry and often weak condolences was Vision. Maybe it was because he was not truly human that she felt such a connection to him. Wanda had been created wrong too. She had been the weird one. Even before Strucker, she had been content to watch TV and let Pietro do the talking. Vision was not fully human and she did not feel fully human without Pietro. 

Vision struggled to understand her grief, and maybe the fact that he did not understand fully was that made him able to help so acutely. He was not held down by the same grief the others felt. Unlike Clint, Wanda, Tony, and the rest of them, Vision was not used to the constant death of the world. 

When Wanda spoke to Vision about Pietro, Vision let her talk. He let her cling onto Pietro in her own selfish way, reminded her that sorrow grew from love. He reminded her that Pietro had been more than the memory of grief and sorrow, that he was always there with her. 

Without Pietro, she was alone. But when Vision smiled senselessly and awkwardly at her, Wanda began to understand that her broken pieces would never fully heal. She would never again hold Pietro’s hand or feel the wind rush around her while he ran, holding her hand and tugging her through the darkness. But she could conceal those pieces and will them together for periods of time. She could try to explore this strange new land with someone equally strange. 

While the Avengers compound was being built, Wanda stayed at the Avengers Tower. It was large enough that she could lose herself in it. She wandered from time to time, idling throughout corridors and hallways that had history she couldn’t be bothered to understand or learn about.

She might have wandered forever, if not for the one day that changed her restiveness and exchanged it for something more. 

Wanda wandered through the avengers’ tower until she found Vision. He sat by himself, as he so often did. The world around them was as overwhelming to Vision as it was to Wanda, but when she found him, his lips quirked upward into that same awkward smile that felt oddly human and oddly full, even if he was not human in the slightest. 

And somehow, that was enough to lead the pair of them out of the tower and into the streets of New York City.

It was a country of light. Sokovia had been dark and miserable. The orphanage that Wanda and Pietro had grown up in was devoid of anything outside the flickering lights of the small TV screen. The orphans had gathered around it from time to time, watching glimpses of the world outside their miserable country. Often, in those few clips of TV shows and movies they could watch unabashedly, New York City showed up in all its grandeur. 

A city of lights, of people, of hope! It was everything Sokovia was not. 

And yet, as Wanda stepped out of the Avengers Tower with Vision, she laughed at it. 

“What?” Vision had asked then, “Is the city not to your liking?” The android sounded affronted, as if he was trying to calculate her reaction and gauge why she had let out a laugh instead of a noise of awe.

Wanda had stared at the bright lights of the buildings with a bewildered expression and then shaken her head, tucking her hands into the pockets of her coat. “It is not that different from Sokovia.” Was all the woman deigned to reply with. 

The guise of light and opulency was nothing more than a mask to hide behind. As she walked, the scars of the invasion years prior seemed to mark the surface of a city that had been broadcast as being so elite and superior to everything else in the known world. To an orphan girl from Europe with nothing but sitcoms to trust in, the city was a bit of a letdown. 

“I’m afraid I do not follow.” Vision replied to Wanda’s statement, his brows furrowed together. 

Wanda sighed again. “It is all the same. Everywhere I go, there is no real change.” She answered, eyes upturned toward the giant billboards and posters. They were walking toward Times Square, soon entering the large crowds of people scanning the area with awe.

Neither had an awed expression. Over the din of people yelling and snapping photos, both Vision and Wanda carried on speaking. “There is always change. It is not probable for there to be no change.” Vision finally decided on saying.

“You have been alive for less than a year, Vision. What do you know of humanity?” She had not intended to sound mean. Wanda sounded almost amused, her eyes darting away from a billboard and toward Vision’s face for a split second.

Vision contemplated her words. “I would like to know more and learn more.”

“Why would you want to learn more of this?” Wanda waved a hand through the air, red light emulating from her fingers as her magic flared up in correlation to her mood. She gestured around the crowded square, bustling with people who did not stop to notice two strange figures in the crowd. “It is all pain. You lose and lose until you drown under it.” She whispered bitterly, eyeing the people walking by. 

They walked without any visible burdens. They walked on their phones, with their dogs, without the looks of the hungry or the grieving. And yet, it was just like Sokovia. It was a city full of people with an ugly history. And while New York was not war-torn, it was nothing more than a cesspool of people. 

They were not the people she wanted. Wanda wanted her mother and father, she wanted Pietro. She wanted her apartment and sitcoms. Not even New York could return that. Like Sokovia, it was just another place that held no meaning and few memories that were pleasant. 

“Yes, but is it not so you learn how to swim instead of drown?” Vision questioned, taking her silence as a reason to interject. “Humans can swim, even when they think they are going to drown and die. Computers sink, as do most animals. I cannot presume to help or fathom what you are going through or how it feels, but I wish to learn what is it to be human.” Vision explained.

She looked at him, head tilted to the side. “For a super-computer, you are not that smart.” Wanda carefully replied, hands once again tucked back into her pockets. 

Vision grinned at her. The same stupid awkward smile that was more human than anything she had seen so far from the stone-faced and often too flamboyant Avengers, who struggled to seem witty and unfettered by all the death around them. 

Despite herself, Wanda’s lips upturned slightly into a grimace-like smile. “Well. As you said, I was born less than a year ago.” He answered, causing her to let out a lilting and abrupt laugh.

Carrying on through the brightly lit crowd of people, Wanda snorted. “I do not think humans advertise that they are not an adult yet.” 

“Why is this?”

“It is not as if we can have conversations with babies.”

Vision nodded his head as if the secrets of the universe were being imparted upon him. “Ah. I suppose this makes sense. Very well. Should I not mention that my creation was recent again?”

“No. I think that you are welcome to act human and learn of us, but you are good the way you are.” Wanda halted, looking at him with a serious expression. “Say your creation date.” She finished off, a spark of red in her eye and a clear ulterior meaning lingering in the heated words. 

The two had been walking for hours now, two forms hunched with baseball caps and disguises in a crowd of many who did not stop to notice two lone figures. As they rounded back on unfamiliar pathways that led back to the tower, Vision was quiet. 

And so, Wanda was quiet as well. They walked together, spectres of war with phantom dirt and blood clinging onto their skin from a battle that had just transpired and had been won so the people in this very city could carry on with their lacklustre lives. They walked, despite Wanda’s lingering bitterness over the idle natures of the people who did not process how great the sacrifice to save this planet was. 

They walked and walked until the Tower was in sight again and her feet were more sore than they had been after a day of protesting in Sokovia. 

Vision cut in, telltale awkwardness suddenly in his synthetic voice. “Well. Uh. This is us.”

She smiled slightly, unable to help herself. “That it is.” Wanda echoed, looking up from the dusty pavement and her hands tucked in her pockets to glance at Vision’s face. He seemed to be warring between speaking or staying quiet. But Wanda, tired as she was, did not want to see that awkwardness and gentle smile fade away into anything else.

She wanted to sleep, wanted to hold onto the memory of something good and innocent in a world that was just as dirty as Sokovia. Instead of waiting, she brushed past Vision and into the tower. “See you later, Viz.” The nickname slipped loosely from her lips, as Wanda darted back inside the Tower to leave him standing outside with a bewildered expression and the same faintly awkward smile.


	2. subterranean homesick alien.

“What, like it’s hard?” Wanda gritted her teeth, letting out a waning laugh. Thrusting her arms upward, a beam of red light shot out of her hands to create a hardening red sphere in the air. Bringing her hands to the left, Wanda brought the beam down hard on the ground. Right where Natasha had been a moment beforehand. As Wanda focused on her powers, the assassin had slipped away from the impact zone. She was now charging toward Wanda, who belatedly flung another red blast of energy at the woman.

Nat rolled out of the way and barely avoided being hit by the second blast Wanda levelled at her side. Natasha charged for Wanda, who merely smiled and tilted her head eerily to the side as Nat ran forward, aiming to kick Wanda down to her knees. Wanda did not fall. She held both hands out, fingers twisting and contorting as she summoned her magic to float up into the air.

Hovering over Nat’s head, Wanda promptly launched another blast of energy at her. 

It hit the woman lightly, sending Natasha backwards. Once that was done, Wanda stepped back down on the earth to offer the S.H.I.E.L.D Agent a hand upward. “I told you. It’s not hard.” She explained dryly.

Natasha simply shook her head. 

Natasha had been trusted to train the newest batch of Avengers. While Sam seemed to be enjoying his training and was trailing around after Steve like a Sokovian stray dog following someone with food, Wanda was finding Natasha’s training to be rather tedious. Nat was good at teaching fighting skills but she was a sore loser and prone to comments that were meant to seem witty but just came off as mean. 

“Well then. I guess my power as being the only girl on the team is being upset.” Nat muttered. 

Wanda smiled thinly. “With their luck, I have a feeling there will be more than one woman needed.”

“Don’t let Rogers hear you see that. You’ll wound his male pride.” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Might not want to keep on talking. Your female pride is wounding me.” Sam’s voice sounded as if summoned by Wanda’s thoughts about him moments earlier. Sure enough, a hovering drone spoke with his voice from the sky above in the large training hall, Sam’s teasing voice somehow emitting through the droid.

“Don’t you have something better to do than drive that thing around and talk to us?” Natasha called up to the drone.

“Yeah, yeah. I do. That’s why you ladies are speaking with Redwing.” The Sam-drone dismissively replied.

“I’m not going to talk to Redwing, Sam.” Both women replied at the same time, exchanging muted glances of shock and amusement at the sudden twin act. 

Drone-Sam-Redwing did not share the amusement. “Your loss. Redwing’s feelings are going to be hurt.” The drone made to float out the open window but halted. “By the way. Cap says it’s Nat’s turn to cook tonight. Not to get you mad or anything Wanda, but your food was..”

“You will make me mad if you finish that sentence,” Wanda interjected.

The drone tactfully flew away before Natasha could complain about being assigned to dinner duty.

That was the way of their life now. The Avengers had adjusted to life at the new compound. Natasha, Sam, Vision, and Wanda had fallen into an easy camaraderie that, while unusual to Wanda and a bit stressful at times, was the closest to a functioning family she had ever had in years now.

It was not anywhere near as wonderful as life with her mother, father, and brother but it was better than the orphanage. If only Pietro was there to share in that. 

A flash of guilt darted over Wanda’s features before she turned to Natasha. “Do you want to just-”

“Yeah, I’ll order a pizza.” Natasha finished off. 

The two looked at one another. Wanda chuckled finally. “Get more than one pizza. We are living in a house full of stray dogs. They do not ever stop eating.”

Nat raised a brow. “You ate just as much pizza as Sam did last week.”

“I was hungry,” Wanda explained dismissively, moving to get a drink of water from the pitcher nearby before waving a hand through the air.

“Whatever!” Nat answered, the dismissal evident in her teasing tone. “See you tonight Maximoff.”

With that, Wanda was left to herself.

She moved upstairs to shower, hastily throwing on clothes afterwards. Hair tied up underneath a towel, Wanda had a solid minute to herself before she felt the presence of someone else. Mind reading was useful for a great many things, and while she usually did not bother to use it, the faint whispers of another mind’s thoughts in her peripheral was enough to alert Wanda to the fact she wasn’t alone. “Viz.” She admonished him quietly, smiling all the same. 

“You know you could just use the door.” Wanda started off, as Vision floated through the wall to stand in front of her.

“Yes, but you are perfectly aware when I am near and the door is so far away. Surely it makes more sense to just go through the wall.”

“No. It is an invasion of privacy.” Wanda replied calmly. 

“Do you wish to be alone?” 

Once again, she calmly replied. Only this time with a little smile. “No. No, I do not.”

Gesturing for him to sit beside her, Wanda made room for Vision on the bed. Her room was small and decorated sparsely, for the only thing Wanda really wanted or requested was the TV that sat in the corner of the room. Everything else was secondary. She was used to living in places that never really felt like home.

She had been taught not to decorate too much and to ask for only one important thing. That was always a TV. At the orphanage, at Strucker’s lab, even here. She always had a TV. 

And it always played sitcoms. 

Now, it was turned off as Wanda looked at Vision. “I did not see you come to train today.” She quietly commented.

“I was with Mr Stark.” Vision answered. 

Wanda took a deep breath and tried to ignore the temporary and irrational flare of anguish that Tony’s name brought upon. “I see.”

For a second, it seemed as if that was all she would say. “But you are here now. And I am glad for it.” She tentatively proclaimed.

Vision smiled, the same awkward smile she was slowly starting to crave seeing. “And I am glad to be here.”

They fell silent, both of them giddy with small tentative smiles. 

Vision then looked at the towel wrapped around Wanda’s head and her wet hair. He looked baffled by its presence as if his code simply could not fathom a reason for wrapping a towel across one’s head. “I don’t mean to assume, but are these.. towels now a sudden hair accessory?” Vision questioned. 

She stared and then promptly burst out laughing, the noise building up and exploding over in the relative quiet of her room. Taking off her towel, wet hair falling down limply to her shoulders, Wanda giggled. “It is to dry my hair. Not all of us are bald, Viz.” She explained, chuckling.

Vision stared at her, still bemused. A sudden sheen of golden light enshrouded his body like a second skin. The translucent light slowly dissipated to reveal Vision, now human with his own head of hair. The trick was not one Wanda had seen yet. She stared at him, mute.

He had been beautiful in a strange way in his usual form, like a mismatched series of parts to match the mismatched pieces of Wanda and the other avengers that had been scattered by heartbreak and death. He had been a puzzle personified, unearthly and entrancing with his unreal appearance. 

As a human, he was devastating. The shock of dirty blonde hair was new. And yet, the familiar features were there but amplified. An angular face, accentuated by a jawline and a lean body that was still Vision but yet foreign, replaced red skin. Even the stone in his forehead was gone, replaced with unblemished skin.

She would have stared forever, if not for his eyes. Ever the same and ever present. She found they were boring into her with his usual endearing expression of confusion and adoration. He tentatively reached up to touch his new hair, looking at the strands with a proud smile. “Ah. I see. Hmm.” Vision narrated. “Shall I wet it to have the full experience?” 

Wanda met his gaze, slender fingers somehow having moved upward to caress his face. Slowly, she traced her hands up his face until one hand rested over where the stone had once been. The other moved to brush aside a strand of hair. His eyes were locked on her face, conversation forgotten entirely. 

Wanda forgot the question asked. Instead, she pressed her hand against where the stone had once been. Wordlessly, the stone appeared. She moved backward, other hand still tangled in his hair, pausing to survey. Vision, still human, still with the stone. 

Vision, still Vision. 

Vision. 

Wanda blinked and withdrew her hand. “You could do that the entire time?” She finally questioned.

The silence transformed. Vision scooted away and coughed, as Wanda wrapped her arms around herself and then thought better of it, instead reaching up to grab a pillow. She hugged it tightly to her chest and resolved not to mention the way her heart beat hastily and the way her magic sung. 

It sung, as if linked to Vision and his stone. Her heart and magic sung, intertwined and connected, reacting to the proximity and the way his skin had felt against her fingers. The way his hair had curled. She felt like she could burn with it, with this unspoken feeling and the truth that was steadily washing over it.

Her everything sung, a song older than time and older than her and Vision. 

And she did not let it sing. 

She couldn’t face the truth steadily growing and mounting.

He cleared his throat. “I was not sure if I could do that. My calculations suggested that there was a 50% chance that I could shift. It seems that it worked.” 

Wanda held tightly onto the pillow, as the yellow light flashed again and he was back to his usual form. She swallowed, wetting her too dry throat while doing so. “It is a good power.” She expressed blandly, not sure what to say. 

“Yes.” Vision replied with a nod. “It is a very useful thing.”

She turned to him again, unsurprised by the fact he was also staring at her. “I like you better the way you are. It is a good power though.” Wanda amended.

She was also unsurprised by the way he smiled. “Thank you.” 

The two allowed a quiet content silence to wash over the room. There was no reason to speak. They both understood that the conversation was over and both acknowledged that sometimes it was best not to speak, not when both of them were lost in their own thoughts. 

When dinner came, Vision departed. He had no need for food. Wanda was left to herself, hair now dry and face conflicted in the quiet of her room. 

Throwing away her pillow, she buried her face in the plush fabric and groaned loudly.

Rooms away, she could have sworn she heard Vision let out a sharp intake of breath. Natasha’s voice was then heard, asking a question. With a sigh, Wanda stood up and wordlessly exited her room, resisting the urge to take the pillow, as she slipped into the kitchen to join the others.

It couldn’t be said that a day at the compound was boring. That much was very clear and very true.


	3. exit music (for a film.)

And just like that, she was forgotten again. Forgotten, as her powers killed. Powers that were born of destruction and taught and honed because of despair once again had killed someone. There was no thank you from Steve for saving his life, no thanks for the people who had been spared on the streets. Not that Wanda wanted praise, as the orange flames of the exploded building kept on burning and the screams rang out, a symphony of the damned wafting down to her, caught on the smoke and embers that fell down and around her. 

Her eyes were glued to it. Unaware her hands were covering her mouth and that tears were building in her eyes, Wanda watched. Entranced by the chaos, she took a step forward. The chaos called to some forgotten part of her, a part of her that tried to justify the loss of life with Machellavian ruthlessness. 

She smothered that part of herself, just as the fire in the Lagos building was smothered above her. The fire above died down and all Wanda could do was stare in horror. She took another step forward but found herself blocked by one of the civilians who had gathered below to watch Steve’s fight just minutes ago.

Had it been minutes? Her thoughts spiralled back to the building and the screams. It felt like it had been hours. She felt like she was caving in on herself, chest heaving and thoughts disjointed. A blend of guilt, terror, and horror threatened to drown Wanda once again. 

And then that tiny part of herself that thrived in chaos wept in relief for the confirmation that she was powerful.

That tiny part was an ember best left to die down.

“I can help,” Wanda muttered to the person blocking her, who was wide-eyed and assertive only because fear had taken over and adrenaline made even the timidest feel brazen. “I can help,” Wanda repeated, trying to convince herself. 

“Haven’t you helped enough?” The man questioned her. Wanda’s own eyes widened in horror. She shook her head once. “No. It’s not my fault. They would have died down here. I-”

“It’s not my fault.” The words tasted like ash and dust in her mouth, like the fire overhead. “I don’t know how to control them.” She whispered to a stranger who would never understand. Her powers were vast and sprawling and she was small and confused in comparison. 

Wanda did not notice that the man was gone and that the crowd had left her. She did not notice the way her fanatic whispers turned into dry-heaving and shaking. There was nobody to comfort the perpetrator. There was nobody to offer sympathy to a harbinger of chaos and destruction.

“It is my fault.” She admitted into the dust of the desolate square. 

Lagos, Wanda would remember for the rest of her life. A mistake she hadn’t meant to make that had ruined everything.

It was hours later when Wanda came to, sitting in the compound with her head in her hands. Tears stained her face and silence prevailed as the avengers sat, nearby, but secustred on their own bits of couch. When Tony came later with his usual nervous rambling and a stranger, Wanda was too tired to argue the Sokovia Accords.

She could have slept forever, wandering in a daze somewhere between alive and asleep. 

Wanda would have done so, unaware of the tension and the troubles as her team split in half. 

She would have done so, if not for Vision’s home cooked meal. The sputtering of her heart was not shown on the outside when the android attempted to make dinner for her. The way her entire body relaxed, the way it suddenly felt not so hard to face her actions, the way she couldn’t help but smile and let out a little confused noise when Vision mentioned that everyone didn’t dislike her. 

She stirred the pot and while Wanda wanted nothing more than to cherish the food that Vision had attempted to make, she felt a strong desire to bring together these two parts of her life. Vision and home, tied together by his face and by a meal from Sokovia. Inside the tower, she could hide from what she had done. But she needed to make sure it was alright. She could fix the meal and make it taste more like home and then face the storm ahead, having that memory of the past secure and having that glimpse of the future beside her.

And then she had turned to leave and been blocked by Vision.

That little something inside her chest cracked and broke. Wanda had gone back to living numbly until Clint came. She took the chance to escape, to face her problems. Or, not really. She faced Tony Stark and like she had as a teenager, flung all her rage at him and blamed Iron man for all her problems. 

“You locked me in my room.” Wanda had grunted out while attacking him. But in truth, it was more than that. Vision had picked obeying Tony over being there for her. Pietro had died because of Ultron. Tony had chosen to sign accords that were condemning her and the others. Tony then had the gall to act as if he was the only one who had suffered.

She hated that part of him and would have carried on fighting that anger, that rage that Tony symbolised. 

But then, Wanda was locked in prison.

The rest of the details were hazy from then on. Steve broke her out at some point and the knowledge of being fuitiges seemed to sweep over the others involved, who looked horrified and proud in equal measures. They were the avengers, unbowed and defiant in the face of some stupid law or rule or whatever.

Wanda couldn’t help but feel as if everything was her fault. 

She just wanted to speak with Vision. No matter how conflicted her feelings were, how angry she was, she wanted to speak with him.

Which was what happened. 

Since Ultron, they all had forgotten that Ultron could track through the internet. Vision was a supercomputer in the same way, formed from Jarvis and vibranium, and the mind stone. Steve had given Tony a flip phone, but the other avengers had tiny little burner phones of their own. How inconceivable that Vision could find her through the networks?

All she knew was that a text flew across her screen from V. 

Sitting in the quinjet beside Natasha and Sam, Wanda tilted her head to the side. Eerily quiet, she read the contents of the text with a blank face before texting back.

𝘞𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢, 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺. - 𝘝

𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? - 𝘞

𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. - 𝘝

𝘕𝘰, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱. - 𝘞

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘯𝘰𝘸. - 𝘝

[ 𝘝 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 . . . ]

𝘐'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘴. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬. 𝘐𝘯 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺. - 𝘝

Her fingers hovered over the tiny keys of the phone, fumbling for thoughts and words alike. Wanda couldn’t ignore the way her heart soared and the idea of an apology once again made everything seem brighter. She wanted to trust Vision more than she wanted anything. She did not want to hurt him again. Everyone had been hurt by her already. If he truly was acting on Tony’s orders and did not want to just meet, Wanda decided she would go willingly to whatever cesspit the two had in store.

If she lost Vision fully, she had lost everything. 

“Where are we going?” Wanda called up to Steve, who stood with a hand on Natasha’s chair, looking out at the boundless sky above them. 

He answered. “Somewhere off the radar.” 

Nat rose upward. “Speaking of off the radar, we got to change our looks. We’re too obvious.” She pointed at herself and Wanda. She then looked at Steve, who expectantly was waiting for his own orders. “Uh. Grow a beard or something, Rogers.”

“Thanks.” Steve replied dryly, turning back to the skies.

Wanda thought for a minute. “We can stop somewhere to get hair dye and goods. There are little towns by Sokovia that would not notice us. They are small. Do not ask questions.” The others conferred for a bit, agreeing with the plan of action.

When they were coasting over the greenery of Europe, Wanda finally asked her second question. “Vision would like to speak with me. Could it be done when we stop? He’s going to turn off his tracker.”

Natasha instantly opened her mouth to say no. Steve considered. “Go to a part of the village we are not in. Stay close and stay safe.” Wanda nodded her head, not missing the way he whispered to Natasha. “He’d be good to have on our side.” 

She didn’t care, far too elated over the prospect of seeing Vision again. Wanda looked down at her tiny phone again and texted back. 

𝘠𝘦𝘴. - 𝘞

[ 𝘞. 𝘔𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴.]

𝘖𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘳. 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 

[ 𝘝 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨...]

𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. - 𝘝

He texted back instantly. Wanda smiled tentatively at her phone and stood up to watch the sky around them with Steve until they landed.

They hid the quinjet in the nearby forest before disembarking. Steve, Nat, and Sam went in the opposite direction to Wanda. She inhaled in the crisp air and took a deep breath, waiting until their distant forms vanished away. Unsure why she was so nervous, Wanda then trekked through the woods until she found the desolate and empty area of a small village that she had agreed to meet Vision in. 

She found him there instantly, wearing his human guise and picking lint out of a blue sweater. Carefully, she crossed over to stand near him. Wanda made no move to say anything or do anything. She merely stood there, the wind blowing through her hair and the sun shining on her back. 

All she did was stare.

Vision looked up and stopped picking at his sweater. “Uh. Wanda. I am so very sorry for what happened.” He rambled. Remembering what he had done, Wanda kept herself from thinking too intently about him. She waited for more of an apology. “I care about you deeply. I would not mean to-” Vision had risen upward at some point to walk toward her. 

Wanda’s heart started beating faster in the span of mere moments. “Here. May I?” Not sure what he was asking permission for, despite a faint inkling that she tried to shove downward, Wanda inclined her head to wordlessly say it was okay.

He placed a hand on her face. Eyes wide, she placed her hand overtop his. His other hand came up to cup the other side of her face, lithe fingers tangling in her windswept hair. “Viz.” Wanda whispered quietly, but then he had broached the distance fully. His lips were on hers within seconds. She forgot to be angry and forgot to breathe. 

She kissed him back. 

When he pulled away, Wanda wrinkled her nose and placed both of her hands over his instead. “You have already left once. Why go again now?” She questioned as Vision attempted to pull back, watching his look of surprise and concern before pressing her lips against his once more. 

They kissed again and when she pulled away this time, she let both of their hands fall to the ground. 

He took her hand in his. 

“I did not know how to express my feelings or my apologies in any other way. I presume it was not too forward of me, considering your reaction.” Vision commented. 

Wanda laughed and swung their intertwined hands. “No. It was not too forward.” She assured him. Wanda wanted nothing more than to stay rooted in the moment, to kiss him again and again and try to solidify the thing she had denied for so long. Instead of her, that secretive affection she had carried for Vision for longer than she’d like to admit was on full display. No longer shoved away underneath layers of fear and panic, Wanda let her affection show on her face and in a rare full smile.

He laughed, unrestrained and perhaps a bit confused. But it was as if they had both broken free of shackles. The moment meant they could now be open and honest, could acknowledge the feelings that torn at both of them for so long. “You.. you are so beautiful.” Vision shook his head, looking at her with a bewildered expression she had come to know. 

She moved away again, free hand cupping his face. “And you are Vision. You are handsome, beautiful, and wise. You may have locked me in my room but you are here now. You are mine just as much as I am yours.” It was a promise then, a way for him to leave if he wished to.

But by being here, he was preparing for a life of lies. “You must know that. By being here, you must lie to Stark. You must understand that I have to go with my team and that we will not have much time to just be us. By being here, you tie yourself to me above Stark.” Her heart fluttered. She wanted him to tie himself to her, she wanted him to take precious little moments to share with her.

She wanted to hold his hand again and to forget the chill of the wind or the sun beating down on her back.

“Us. Wanda and Vision.” Vision mused, kissing her hand. “I know what I am giving up. But I also know what I stand to gain.” His voice lowered. “I am not afraid, Wanda. You have been the one constant in this world. I will not lose that so readily.” 

That was all she needed to hear. Wanda let out a little laugh and wiggled her hand out of Vision’s to kiss him once more. 

When she left hours later to rejoin the avengers and Vision left to return to Tony, she did not leave feeling as if she was drowning. She left with hope. Hope she carried for the rest of the day, as Natasha dyed Wanda’s hair red and she in turn dyed Natasha’s hair blonde. 

That hope followed the avengers instead of Vision or Tony. She had not been betrayed, Wanda would explain later. She had, instead, found that Vision was going to come visit her a lot. So they would have to give her locations to go to from time to time, away from the rest of the team. 

Somehow, they didn’t push it. 

Maybe it was the red glint in her eyes or the reminder of what Wanda could do if crossed, or maybe it was the little smile on her usually impassive face that had the rest of the team agreeing. Or maybe it was the little phone that buzzed occasionally, that she held close to her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, i always thought the shift from vision and wanda fighting to them being together at the start of infinity war was very ill explained. just wanted to explore that a bit for a while. 
> 
> honestly, im still recovering from that ending of wanda vision. 
> 
> on another note, canonically wanda and pietro's age was changed from 16 to 26 at the start of age of ultron. i don't plan on fully addressing that for a while yet, but i'd like to keep it so they were still teenagers at the start of age of ultron. i find the fact their ages were upped to be a bit strange because not only were they called kids, vision was also practically a newborn when wanda and vision met. the innocence of the pair is something touched on a bit in wandavision and in the film itself, so im not particularly fond of just ditching that somewhat. 
> 
> regardless, it seems more of a way to recon something that was never really suggested in the mcu and i'm not a big fan of it. it also makes pietro's death more impactful if he was a teen, simply because barton had younger kids at that point. 
> 
> but oh well. thank you for reading :)


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